Pairing with the Protector: A Kindred Tales Novel (Brides of the Kindred)

by Evangeline Anderson

  The thought made the Rage, which had taken him during the attack, want to come on again and he pushed it down with an effort. It would do no good to lose his senses right now—he had to be thinking of a way to escape—a way the two of them could get out of these cages and back to their ship.

  But not before I tear that bastard who attacked her limb-from-limb, Rafe told himself grimly.

  When the mother alien had first deposited the attacker back in the cage beside his own, Rafe had run to the side of the cage which abutted the other male’s cage. He’d reached through the bars and made a grab for the raping bastard, but the other male was just out of reach. The male had taken a step backwards anyway, staring warily at Rafe, whose eyes were red and hot with Rage.

  “You son of a bitch,” he’d muttered thickly—careful to keep his voice low so the mother alien wouldn’t hear. “The minute I get my hands on you, you’re as good as fucking dead! Nobody hurts my female and gets away with it. Whitney is mine! Do you hear me, mine. So I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart—tearing you into tiny little fucking pieces—while you scream in pain. Those screams are going to be music to my fucking ears—do you hear what I’m saying to you? You’re dead—fucking dead!”

  The words had poured out of him like a thick torrent of bile and though he didn’t expect the feral male to understand, he was surprised to see his pale blue eyes widen as he backed away. The other male had retreated to the far corner and used a bunch of the greenish-purple grass to make a kind of barrier to hide himself from Rafe’s glare. He was still in there, huddled by himself, as though he hoped Rafe would forget him.

  That wasn’t going to happen. Rafe was determined to tear the bastard apart the first chance he got.

  Of course he was never going to get a chance if he didn’t find a way out of the damn cage.

  The mother alien had gone away and was doing some sort of chore which seemed to involve putting huge pieces of fabric in and out of a gurgling machine as big as a mountain. She was humming as she worked—a low rumbling sound like boulders crashing downhill in the distance—and seemed completely preoccupied, so Rafe felt free to try and escape.

  He went back to the door of the cage and reached through the bars again, trying to find a way to open the locking mechanism. It felt simple to his seeking fingers, but it stuck fast when he attempted to work it. Damn it, what was wrong with the fucking thing and how was he ever going to get out of here if he couldn’t open it?

  He gave up for a moment and examined the bars of the cage instead. They were made of some kind of thick metal which might pass for wire in this world. Back on the Mother Ship, however, they would have been iron girders. Each one was as big around as his thigh and extremely solid. Rafe tried pushing them apart to no avail—he also couldn’t fit through them either, since there was barely six to eight inches of room between each one. So there was no escaping that way.

  Giving up, he went back to the lock and worked on it with single-minded focus and no results for what felt like hours until he heard the mother alien calling in her deep voice to the child,

  “All right now, Zhu-zhu, be careful when you feed them. I don’t want you fiddling around with the cage doors so just push the chick-chak slices and the tundu sticks through the bars of the cages.”

  “Yes, Mama,” the child replied and before he knew it, something that looked like a pale green plank of wood was making its way through the thick wire bars of his cage.

  Rafe got out of the way as the long, narrow plank worked itself between the bars and into his cage. It was followed by two huge flat slices about the circumference of bicycle tires. The slices were about six inches thick and had a white center and a deep blue rind all around the edge.

  “There, Mama—is that enough?” he heard Zhu-zhu ask.

  “Yes my dear, I think it is.” The mother alien sounded thoughtful. “That ought to satisfy them.”

  “And should I give the same to the little female tweedle or are we going to use the special food?” the child asked.

  “Not tonight, I don’t think,” the mother answered. “Just give her the same as the little male for now.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Zhu-zhu replied and Rafe watched as she shoved a thick green plank and two of the bicycle tire-sized white and blue slices into Whitney’s cage as well. Whitney had come out to watch the operation and when the little alien child pushed the green plank into her cage, she took the end and tugged it playfully, grinning at Zhu-zhu.

  What in the Seven Hells does she think she’s doing? Rafe wondered as the little girl laughed delightedly and tugged back, creating a kind of tug-of-war with the green plank.

  At last she was admonished by her mother that it was “almost bedtime” so she gave up and let Whitney pull the plank all the way into the cage before saying goodnight to all of the “tweedles” and thundering off to bed.

  Finally the lights in the lower area got dim and the sound of retreating footsteps up the long silver-blue ramp told Rafe they were alone. It was the moment he had been waiting hours for.

  “Whitney!” he called hoarsely, across the empty space that separated their cages. “Whitney are you well? Please, mon’dalla, tell me you are!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Whitney had been waiting for this chance from the minute she and Rafe had been separated. Pushing her face to the space between the bars of her cage, she called back to him.

  “I’m okay, honestly, Rafe. He didn’t hurt me, I swear it!”

  “She’s right, I didn’t hurt her. If anything, she hurt me—she nearly yanked my hair out by the roots!”

  To Whitney’s surprise, Silky had joined in the conversation. It might not have been the smartest idea because the minute he heard the other male’s voice, Rafe turned towards him with the most murderous glare Whitney had ever seen. His eyes glimmered blood red in the dim light which she knew meant he was going into Rage—the state of berserker fury that came over all Kindred warriors when they thought a female they cared for was threatened.

  “You fucker,” he said thickly, his voice nothing but a deep, menacing growl. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

  Silky paled but held his ground—which happened to be well out of Rafe’s reach.

  “Look man, she’s telling the truth—I didn’t hurt her! And I wouldn’t have tried anything at all if Mama Tusker hadn’t been watching and I didn’t think your female was one of the Mindless Ones.”

  “Mindless Ones—what’s that?” Whitney called. She wished they were closer together so she didn’t have to yell. It was like shouting across a football field to be heard.

  “You know—the tweedles who live like animals. Look, I’ll tell you—I’ll explain anything you want to know about this place,” Silky promised. “But you have to make your man here promise not to mess with me.”

  Whitney looked at Rafe doubtfully. His eyes still glared red in the dimness and his broad shoulders were tensed and heaving with Rage.

  “I’ll try,” she said. “But it’s not like I control him. We’re a kind of team—I’m a scientist and he’s my Protector. That’s why he’s so pissed off that you attacked me—his job is keeping me safe.”

  “A job in which I failed.” Rafe’s deep voice was unexpectedly heavy. “But I will not fail again,” he added, glaring at Silky.

  “Look, just call him off!” Silky begged Whitney. “Come over here and try to talk him down.”

  “Come over? How? I’m locked in the same as you two.” Whitney gestured at her cage door which was firmly shut.

  Silky shook his head, his long auburn hair flying.

  “No, you’re not. You have the one cage in all of Tweedle Town with an old lock—the non-touch kind.”

  “Tweedle Town?” Whitney raised an eyebrow at him.

  “It’s what I call this fucked-up little village of shitty cages,” Silky said impatiently. “Look, just reach your hand through the bars and push down on the metal plate. The cage door will pop right open—I promise. I know because
I used to have that cage until Mama Tusker caught me out and moved me.”

  Experimentally, Whitney reached through the bars as he directed and pressed against the flat metal plate she found there. At first it didn’t seem like it would work but then, with an audible click, the cage door popped open and she found herself staring out of the unobstructed doorway.

  “Whitney! Be careful, mon’dalla!” Rafe exclaimed hoarsely.

  He didn’t have to tell her twice, Whitney thought grimly. The semi-circular array of cages were all placed on a row of wooden crates. The crates came up to the Mama alien’s waist, so she only had to bend down to see the occupants. But since her waist-height was about three stories high, Whitney had the feeling of looking down from the top of a tall building with no ledge in place to stop her if she fell.

  Luckily, the cage door swung open to the left and the way she needed to go was to the right. There was about two feet of room between the cages and the edge of the wooden crates, so there was a narrow pathway to cautiously make her way along, past the middle cage and towards Rafe’s area.

  As she went, Whitney felt the eyes of the other humanoids staring at her. There was one little female with long blonde hair who had the air of a pampered cat. She was nestled in a bed of grass and only looked incuriously as Whitney made her way past her cage.

  Not all the caged inhabitants were so sanguine, however. There were several cages with single males in them who stood up and grunted at her as she passed. Whitney watched them carefully. If any of them decided to shoot an arm between the bars and make a grab for her, it was a long way to the ground if she dodged them and fell.

  But the two seemed content to watch her as she went—small comfort considering they might be put into the matching pen with her next time. Also, both were big and muscular while neither appeared to be intelligent enough to be reasoned with. Whitney kept her eyes on the two of them as she passed and was glad when they left her alone.

  She also passed one cage with two occupants—a male and female who both had black hair and bright green eyes. The two of them were snuggled together on a bright puffy cushion which looked a little like one of those padded dog beds you could buy for your pet at Wal-Mart. They watched Whitney as she passed, neither making any gesture but their eyes looked a little less blank than the others, she thought.

  At last she reached Rafe’s cage. He reached eagerly though the bars for her and Whitney grasped his hands and arms with her own. She still felt awkward about being nude around him, but she was so grateful to be able to touch him and be near him again, she didn’t even care that she was bare-assed naked. In fact, she wished she could get closer and hug him. It would feel so good to press her face against his broad chest and breathe in the warm, masculine scent which always seemed to hang around him.

  “Whitney! Mon’dalla!” He grasped her arms eagerly in his big hands which were warm against her chilly flesh. “Are you well?” he asked her earnestly, ducking his head to look into her eyes. “Are you truly?”

  “I really am,” Whitney assured him. “Honestly, Rafe—Silky didn’t hurt me. He stopped trying as soon as I told him to back off.”

  “Like I said, I thought she was one of the Mindless Ones,” Silky put in helpfully. “And I’m not really called Silky—that’s just what Mama Tusker calls me because of my hair.” He flipped his long auburn mane over one shoulder—a move Whitney was more used to seeing done by a woman. Clearly he was proud of his silky tresses and just as clearly they had inspired his name.

  “Who are you then? I mean, what’s your name?” Whitney asked him.

  “You might as well call yourself Dead Meat because that’s what you’re going to be when I get my hands on you,” Rafe growled, before the other male could answer.

  “Now, Rafe…” Whitney patted his arm soothingly. “Let him talk. He’s been here longer than we have and he knows what’s going on. He might teach us something if you don’t scare him to death.”

  Rafe glowered. “I am surprised you can be so forgiving after he tried to attack you, mon’dalla.”

  “I can, though,” Whitney said firmly. “And if I can, you can too, Rafe. Please,” she added, looking into his eyes. “We need to know everything we can and he’s the only one we’ve met who can tell us.”

  “Well…” She saw him visibly struggling with himself but finally he nodded and took a deep breath. The red light died out of his eyes and he looked at the other male with something approaching calmness.

  “I will not harm you this time, if you tell us everything you know,” he growled. “And I want it understood that if you ever, ever come near my female again, I will kill you in the slowest, most painful way possible.”

  The other male went pale but nodded eagerly.

  “Understood, man—completely understood. She’s yours—hands off. I get it. I totally and for real get it.”

  It might have just been a trick of the translation bacteria but it occurred to Whitney that he sounded a lot like a stereotypical surfer bro. The idea tickled her funny bone and she had to stifle a giggle. No matter how bad or serious the situation she found herself in was, she could usually find something funny in it—a fact that had gotten her into trouble in church more than once when she was younger.

  “Okay,” she said, making sure to keep a straight face. “Now that that’s all settled, what’s your name, not-Silky?”

  “In my tribe I was called Dood,” he said with complete seriousness. “Before I was captured by some tweedle traders and sold to Mama Tusker, that is.’

  “Um, Dood? Really?” Whitney had to stifle a giggle again.

  “Yes, it’s a special name in my tribe. It means ‘One who communes with the stars.’” Dood got a beatific look on his face and sighed deeply. “Those were the good old days—before the Tuskers started trying to wipe us Thinking Ones out. Like we could be any threat to them—they’re a hundred times bigger than us!”

  “Uh, Tuskers? Thinking Ones?” Whitney raised an eyebrow. “Who are those?”

  Dood frowned at her.

  “What do you mean, who are those? How can you not know about the Tuskers and the Mindless Ones and the Thinking Ones? Where have you been the past ten cycles—some other planet?”

  “Actually…” Whitney cleared her throat uncertain if she ought to reveal their secret but Rafe didn’t seem to mind.

  “We have been aboard the Kindred Mother Ship,” he growled, frowning. “Because we are not from this planet—we are not even from this galaxy.”

  Rapidly he outlined their predicament while Dood listened, wide-eyed.

  “And so, we need to get out of here and back to our ship if we are ever going to get home again,” he concluded at last. “Though I do not know how that is to be achieved when I am locked in a cage.”

  “Wow. Just…wow.” Dood shook his head, looking dazed. “If everything you just told me is true…” He made a motion with his hands on either side of his head. “Mind…blown. Just completely blown, man,” he told Rafe, who still wasn’t looking at him with a very friendly expression.

  “It’s all true,” Whitney said quickly. “The little girl—Zhu-zhu—caught us out in the forest. But if you help us escape and get out of here, maybe we can take you with us in our ship and drop you off with your tribe.”

  Rafe didn’t appear to like this idea at all but to his credit, he said nothing.

  But Dood only shook his head in absent negation.

  “Thanks for the offer, guys, but there’s no way out of here. Believe me, I tried. Even got all the way to the front door of the dwelling once but then what? How are you gonna get out?”

  “Did you even try?” Rafe demanded. “Or did you simply give up when you met an obstacle you could not immediately overcome?”

  “Hey watch it man, the Dood does not give up easily.” Dood flipped his hair again, apparently offended. “I did try to get out. I waited around for Papa Tusker to leave for work in the morning. I was going to slip out with him. Would’ve made it too, if
Mama Tusker hadn’t come running after him with his morning cup of Navva brew. She saw me and grabbed me before I could get out the door. Took me right back downstairs to Tweedle Town and slapped me in a cage. Told me I was ‘too smart for my own good.’ and that’s when I lost access to the sweet cage with the easy-open lock.” He made a face, as though the memory was a bitter one. “I’ve never gotten out since—except when she takes me to a show.”

  “A show?” Rafe rumbled, raising one eyebrow.

  “You know—a tweedle show. Like where all the Tuskers who breed tweedles bring them all to one place and they decide which one has the best coat and which one has the best hair…” He flipped his hair again. “I always win that one. Things like that.”

  “Oh my God,” Whitney said with dawning comprehension. “A pet show—he’s talking about a pet show! Like the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show,” she explained and when Rafe still looked at her blankly she said, “It’s a human thing. Like a beauty pageant for dogs.”

  “A beauty pageant?” Rafe frowned. “But…isn’t that a sexist exhibition of women where they are scored solely on their physical attributes with no consideration for their intelligence or character?”

  “Exactly.” Whitney nodded. “Only in this case, it’s for dogs.”

  Dood frowned. “Excuse me, hate to interrupt but what’s a ‘dog?’”

  “An animal from Earth—Whitney’s home planet—which barks and drools and urinates all over to mark its territory,” Rafe snapped.

  “I take it you’re more of a cat person?” Whitney raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What’s a cat?” Dood inquired.

  “Never mind,” Whitney said quickly, before Rafe could attempt to explain. “Let’s get back to the point—how do Rafe and I get to be in a, uh, tweedle show?”

  “What both of you?” Dood frowned at them. “Well, she’d probably take you in a heartbeat, little lady—being that you’re so pretty and exotic and all. I hate to break it to you, though, but I doubt Mama Tusker would let him in.” He jabbed a thumb at Rafe who growled at him.